


Yeosang's False Stars

by hwascarec



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood and Gore, Dimension Travel, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Everyone is a bro, Fluff and Angst, M/M, References to Depression, Short One Shot, ateez compitition, atiny storyline, maybe filth, sad yeosang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwascarec/pseuds/hwascarec
Summary: In spirit to ateez 2020 comeback FEVER, the story line one shot will continue here on AO3, angsty yeosang: adults said. Look up at the stars in the night sky. But, the stars did not shine in the night sky that I was looking at and continued to walk looking down on the ground.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kim Hongjoong, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho/Park Seonghwa, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Yeosang's False Stars

**Author's Note:**

> thank you! hopefully more soon <3

9:38 p.m. Seoul, South Korea

...thirteen, fourteen, fifthteen, six...  
As Yeosang walked his eyes bounced counting the cracks within the speckled sidewalk while crowds of people around him held a slower pace. Losing interest in the ground below him, blonde's gaze drifted to the sky above. ‘The stars sure look beautiful tonight.’ many voices reverberated throughout the crowd.  
His heart beat slowly; there was always a calm before the storm, his night sky was dull, the stars really were too far away and out of reach. He felt isolated from the crowd's paths. What did stars matter anyway? While passersby paid no mind to Yeosang, and mentions of the sky above filled the chattering summer air, Yeosang felt a shallow pit beginning to expand; an emptiness within consuming him. His memories were faceless figures around this time of night. 

9:55 p.m. a block further  
Standing beneath a streetlight the blonde boy's hair shone brightly; Yeosang cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out: “So what about the stars!!” he drew a breath again placing his hands by his side, “You’re all liars, every one of you punks!” Yeosang kicked and spat at the ground. Almost two years of dedication, work and sweat, all for false stars. Rage hadn’t completely consumed him yet.   
A vague memory of kind twinkling eyes and large laughter echoing in his ears were faint, and seemed as passed dreams. Who the hell would dream anymore? Would Yeosang ever be dreaming again?  
There wasn’t anything like the bonds he had created on his own but why could he not remember it clearly?

10:01 p.m. Yeosang’s apartment  
Music could be heard on the opposite side of Yeosang’s apartment door. He had never remembered seeing his neighbors this late, but he liked to leave them guessing on the type of person he was, not the type of person he is. By now the blonde mullet boy was calm enough to patiently shuffle in without damaging possessions. “I’m home” he muttered while sliding off his shoes as the empty apartment welcomed him. Yeosang locked his door behind him making his way to draw back the curtains on living room windows and lower the stereo volume.  
He found himself frowning, yet again, at the starless sky. “Pffft,” he huffed. Yeosang caught a glimpse of himself in the shattered mirror hanging on the corner wall. His street clothes looked rough, his hair messier in the fractured glass. There was no way he broke his own mirror, he was hardly home anyway.   
Kneeling down, Yeosang pressed his lips together, his body’s shadow covering the light, limiting refractions on the pieces of scattered glass across the floor; “and when did you decide to fall out?” He stared at himself within the fallen shards. From the corner of his eye he might have caught a shimmer of someone else’s gaze. When did I decide to fall over? Ignoring the vulnerable feeling, Yeosang began to clean up the broken shards. While listening to the familiar tinkling sound of glass shifting into the bin; the rage buried within began to climb again. It was like a hoovering family member who just couldn’t stay out of his life.   
It’s been three months, five days, and ten hours, Yeosang could feel the weight of his own breath. Time felt as if it was moving too quickly, his mind muddled and emotions swallowing him whole as he stood grappsing the cold surface of the counter. Life had become only single stagnant events as if the entire city were numb just as Yeosang had felt since that day.  
Maybe it wasn’t a complete loss, he was at least conscious and living. It was lonely, the stars were lame exactly as the elders told him. Well, between the fine lines anyway; lies, all lies. Drawing a deep breath Yeosang looked before him through the open window.  
Staring out at the hazy sky before him, Yeosang could make out the few details staring back at him; neighboring apartment lights, airplanes blinking slowly (they never seemed to land), and illuminated billboards; empty promises.  
The man made lights were always brighter than the stars, Yeosang knew that, but tonight there was emptiness. Beyond the false stars, just at the end of the city, a foggy rim alluded to light wrinkling around the perimeter. In the distance, Yeosang could feel himself gulp in seclusion. He tore away from the window's grasp and went deeper into his apartment.

11:15 p.m.   
Yeosang felt silly checking his phone in bed. There were no new messages or notifications, the same news outlets broadcasting ‘today marks the three month anniversary since the notorious disappearance of eight men. These missing persons are... ’ he locked his phone placing it on his nightstand, music from his stereo glided through the still apartment air. Tossing and turning Yeosang found his mind bombarded; nothing was real, the sky was a dreamscape of people flying and falling. For a moment Yeosang felt completely trapped staring across his personified room. He was encased laying there in bed. His breathing became panicked, he reached out and could feel a cold glass surface, his hands not completely visible in the fogged space. A panic washed over him, he was now upright, others circled his glass cage, they glared within. Nothing but figures, nothing but figures, nothing but figures.   
Turning again Yeosang clutched the weighted blanket which lay over him. The darkness ran from the few artificial lights shining through the window. Yeosang sighed, calming down from the too real dream. 

12:37  
While drifting to blissful sleep, a whisper floated near his ear “open your eyes,” ...ten, eleven, twelve...


End file.
